


A Hand in My Time of Need

by roane



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Bloodline - Claudia Gray
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Minor Leia Organa/Han Solo, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:32:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roane/pseuds/roane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two rescues, of a sort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hand in My Time of Need

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt from mnemehoshiko: "hand touches".

At first Leia tried to go through official channels to secure Casterfo’s release. She and Greer came forward with the truth about what he was doing with Hadrassian and the Amaxine warriors, but the truth wasn’t nearly as thrilling as the manufactured “evidence”. Maybe if Leia still had a little more influence within the Senate, they might have managed something, but no one listened to her anymore.

So to hell with “official channels”. When she told Han what she had planned, he just grinned and asked if she needed an extra pilot. 

That was how the first real action taken by the Resistance wound up being a raid on a Centrist world. Joph and Snap stayed above ground while Leia led a handful of followers down into the prison block. Han waited overhead, ready to swoop in and pick them up when she called.

The adrenaline didn’t give Leia quite the boost that it used to when she was younger, and her thoughts were caught up in another detention block, long ago. She knew, or could imagine, exactly what Ransolm’s thoughts were like, waiting in a tiny cell for his inevitable execution. She remembered the regrets, the grief, the worry for those she’d leave behind. Distracted, she nearly missed a lone guard popping out from behind a corner. Only Greer’s quick shot and a last minute warning to duck saved Leia’s skin.

“You in there?” Greer asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” Leia stopped woolgathering. Her heart hurt a little at the way Ransolm flinched at the opening of his cell door. Normally there were strict rules about the treatment of prisoners, but accusations of treason made more than one jailer look the other way. He was too thin, bruised, and looked haunted.

“Leia–what–how–” He looked from her to the people behind her.

“Come on. I’ll explain once we’re out of here.” She extended her hand and he grabbed it like a lifeline, letting her pull him to his feet. “The galaxy’s not done with you yet.”

#

The life of a fugitive, it turned out, suited Ransolm startlingly well. Under the combined tutelage of Han and Lando, Leia soon found she had another scoundrel flitting in and out of her life.

There were times, after Han had left for good, after Ben was lost to her, that Leia wondered if maybe there wasn’t room for another scoundrel in her bed, but she told herself those were nothing more than the idle fantasies of a middle-aged woman. And besides, gone or not, she still considered herself very much married to Han. They’d work this out. Eventually.

Until they didn’t.

The moment she felt her son’s blade pierce her husband’s heart was the single worst moment of her life. A conduit opened inside her and she was flooded with two sets of emotions, not just one. She saw, in Han’s last heartbeats, all of his hope and sorrow and regret. She saw her son’s anger and hatred and finally horror. Dimly, from far off in the distance, she felt an echo of Luke’s shock.

But it was the weight of her own grief that sapped the strength out of her knees and made her sit. 

Leia kept going. That’s what she did. It was what she’d always done. But some of the fire had gone out of her. Even when Luke came back, Rey practically dragging him by his ear, all of her emotions felt blunted, washed out.

It was three months after Luke’s return that she was sitting outside of her office, hoping a little bit of sun would lift her spirits. She was sinking into the mire of her grief, and it was starting to spill over and affect the rest of the Resistance.

“Your brother told me you might be here,” came a familiar, cultured voice.

Ransolm had given up the elaborate, overdressed costumes of his Senate days in favor of more practical spacer’s garb, and it suited him better. He looked more himself. She liked him better this way.

Before she could stand, he was sitting by her side, moving with quick, lanky grace. “I came as soon as I heard. I’m so sorry, Leia.” 

She’d heard variants of the same words from dozens of people in almost as many languages, but his sorrow slipped past her guard and caught her by surprise. She wouldn’t cry, not now, not ever, but something must have shown on her face, because he took her hand in both of his, looking at her with worried blue eyes.

Neither of them spoke, and she loved him a little for that. He let her gather herself back together, just letting the warmth from his hands communicate for him. Finally, she took a deep breath and gave him a little nod, to let him know she was all right.

He stood, keeping her hand still in his, and gently eased her to her feet. “Come on. The galaxy’s not done with you yet.”


End file.
